


please say to me you'll let me be your man

by AutumnOcean



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Oneshot, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnOcean/pseuds/AutumnOcean
Summary: Life on the TARDIS was different from life on Earth. There were no obligations or roles or expectations, there was only them and every place that had ever existed. The only limits that remained were the ones that Ian had set for himself. He was so sure that he was imagining things that the limits always remained.
Relationships: Ian Chesterton/Barbara Wright
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	please say to me you'll let me be your man

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, it's AutumnOcean back at it again with the old fics. I watched Doctor Who from the beginning (everything except the famously deleted serials, which I read the Wiki summaries of) starting at age 16 or so and going into college. I always loved Ian and Barbara, the OG adult companions, thrown into a crazy world with nobody but each other to understand where the other was coming from. There aren't many fics with them JUST focused on them, so I thought I'd throw this onto ye olde internet. It had been sitting and languishing on my hard drive for years. This is set sometime after Susan left, when it was just them and Vicki with One. UST goodness and generally me just trying to get into Ian's head! Title is from the Beatles song, please don't sue me Paul and Ringo. Enjoy.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Ian, lost in his thoughts, didn’t hear her. He had been absorbed in A Brief History Of Time by Stephen Hawking, and had continued mulling over the material on his way to the water machine. This Hawking fellow had some interesting theories, none of which matched up with what little information the Doctor had revealed to him. Of course, whenever Ian did have the chance to ask the Doctor about the mechanics of time travel, he received a stern glare and was brusquely brushed off. He had immediately started reading after stumbling across it in the sprawling TARDIS library, hoping for real answers. After all, the very idea of flying around the universe for no apparent reason was simply ludicrous…..

“Ian? Are you quite alright?”

Startled, he jumped, and Barbara’s hand, which had made its way onto his shoulder, was jerked away. Ian sighed. He already missed her comforting touch. He turned, preparing to offer her a smile and an apology for unintentionally being so rude, when the sight of Barbara nearly knocked him backwards.

It had been so long since he had seen her up close. After weeks of forging alliances with strangers from the future and cringing at the word “exterminate!”, all Ian had cared about was that everyone was alive. He certainly hadn’t thought about the fact that Susan being gone meant he would be alone with Barbara more often - Vicki cared for the Doctor more than them anyway. Though this seemed incredible to him, Ian had completely forgotten how beautiful Barbara was.

Her soft brown hair curled enticingly around her head in its careful updo, her warm brown eyes looked at him with concern, her perfect pink lips pursed to complete her puzzled expression. Ian felt he’d die if he didn’t soon get those lips on his…..

“Ian?”

He shook himself before trying to speak. Ian met Barbara’s gaze and spoke.

“I was just, ah, thinking.”

It wasn’t what he had meant to say at all. Ian sighed heavily and scratched his head. He had to stop this nonsense at once. What was he, a schoolboy?

Barbara raised an eyebrow and turned back to the water machine. “Well, for the sake of all of us, please don’t get lost up there.” She grabbed a glass, pressed a button, and smiled slightly. “I know that I couldn’t handle the Doctor by myself.”

Having regained his ability to speak in coherent sentences, Ian pulled a face as he spoke. “Oh, pish posh, Barbara. You have Vicki!”

“Come now, Ian. We both know that Vicki’s far more likely to go along with what he suggests than even think about the danger involved. You’re my only real link to sanity.” She retrieved the now full glass of water from under the tap and stepped aside.

Ian had pondered that very fact many times before. As lonely and isolated as this whole journey had seemed, he also felt a possessive glow in his chest. There was only him. Despite this, he felt his ears blushing red as he stepped forward and took a glass. “Yes, well, I suppose that’s true.”

“It is,” Barbara agreed. “You know, sometimes I forget all about 1960s London, as if I’ve always wandered. But then I turn to see you next to me, and I think of all the times you visited my classroom at lunch, or the time you walked me home when my car broke down, or the time you spent a whole staff meeting pelting Mr. Jefferson with paper balls, just to get me out of my bad mood…”

He felt himself turning redder with every instance of 1963 London that she relayed. Had his advances been that obvious? He could only imagine how many people they had met in their travels who had assumed things.

“I can’t only remind you of Coal Hill though - I mean, I’m sure you had a life outside the school.”

Ian grasped his glass of water a bit too tightly to look nonchalant. He took a measured sip and eagerly awaited her answer. Barbara’s personal life was always something he was afraid to ask too much about, for fear of finding out something unsatisfactory - a boyfriend, perhaps. Surely she would have mentioned this man in their travels?

Barbara appeared to be considering his question. “Of course I do think of my family sometimes, but then I think of how worried they must be… so I try to think of London.” A dreamy expression stole across her features. “Ah, London. I forget how much I miss it. I miss the taxi round every corner, the cafe where I’d have my afternoon cuppa…”

“The busy streets, Big Ben,” Ian added.

“Yes. I even miss the Beatles.” She sipped her water and sighed wistfully.

“The Beatles?” Ian exclaimed incredulously. “You’re telling me that Barbara Wright, Coal Hill’s best history teacher, listens to the same music as her students?”

“And you’re telling me that you don’t like the Beatles?”

“Well, I,” Ian made a noncommittal noise and adjusted his tie. “I suppose they’re alright.”

“Oh, please. I’ve heard you humming ‘From Me To You’ more than once.” Barbara grinned, lightly shoving his arm. “Rock and roll groups aren’t just for teenagers.”

She gently traced the condensation on the glass she held, seeming to be deep in concentration. At last, she broke her silence. “I do like them, but I don’t believe it’s as much them as what they represent: home. Sometimes I’d turn on the radio on the way to work and a Beatles song would be on. The places we land don’t usually have music.”

“Ah, sorry about that - I see what you mean. Had I known we’d be wandering around the universe for this long, I’d have brought my record collection with me,” Ian offered offhandedly.

Barbara grinned, and he recognized it as the same one she wore when she tried not to laugh at his whispered jokes at staff meetings. “You’re telling me that Ian Chesterton, Coal Hill High’s best science teacher, has a record collection?”

Ian smiled. After all that nonsense with the Daleks, he had nearly forgotten how nice it was to joke around with his friend and colleague. He had missed it.

Almost as an afterthought, Barbara added, “you know, when we get back, you should invite me to your flat so we can dance to those records.” Her eyes flitted to his before quickly looking away.

Ian flushed a deep red. Dear god, was she flirting? This Barbara was new, and he was afraid that he liked her too much for his own good. “It’s a date.” He nodded before bringing water to his lips. The thought of Barbara coming to his flat for a date was far too delicious, and as he thought about it, he began to choke.

“Ian!” Barbara watched him with concern as he coughed and sputtered. She moved closer and began to rub comforting circles on his back, which hardly helped his problem. He couldn’t handle her touching him like that without acting less than gentlemanly. His resolve strengthened, his throat began to clear.

“Will you be alright?” Barbara fretted. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes, yes I’m - quite fine, thank you.” Ian straightened up and avoided Barbara’s gaze. How embarrassing, he couldn’t repress his fantasies for even a second when he was alone with her. He could manage a conversation with her while the Doctor was nearby, but put the two of them alone together and he was reduced to a lovestruck teenager. He mentally recoiled at that comparison. How horribly ironic.

Life on the TARDIS was different from life on Earth. There were no obligations or roles or expectations, there was only them and every place that had ever existed. The only limits that remained were the ones that Ian had set for himself. He was so sure that he was imagining things that the limits always remained.

He had barely realized that they had passed the last minute in an awkward silence until he heard Barbara shift uncomfortably next to him. “Well, I think I’ll just-”

Before she could finish her sentence, a loud clunking noise echoed throughout the ship. Barbara instinctively grabbed Ian’s upper arms. “What do you think that was?” she whispered. Her face was fearful.

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Ian pulled her closer because, well, he was protecting her, right? Yeah, that’s what he always told himself. “Why don’t we go ask the doctor-”

At that second, the TARDIS swiftly turned, and they were flung into the nearest wall. Vicki’s scream could be heard, as well as the Doctor shouting, “We’re experiencing a bit of turbulence!”

“It’s a good thing he told me, or I’m sure I’d never have figured it out,” Ian muttered. Head still spinning from the turbulence, he heard Barbara’s familiar, lilting laugh, and blinked to clear his vision, only to find Barbara smiling… and on top of him.

Oh god. 

“It appears,” Barbara smiled teasingly, “that when the TARDIS turned so abruptly, that unfortunate force called gravity shoved me on top of you.”

Ian gulped. Indeed, every inch of Barbara’s body, save for her head, was pressed tightly against every inch of his. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. This was the most exquisite form of torture he had ever endured, and if he died from it, so be it.

Barbara wasn’t much shorter than him, which meant that their hips and thighs fit together as if they were puzzle pieces made specifically for that purpose. Her flat stomach and firm breasts rested pleasantly against his broader chest, and her hands were still clutching onto his upper arms. He could feel how warm her skin was through her clothes. “Yes,” he breathed. “It appears so.”

“Of course, gravity would still be the strongest form of gravity known to man, even when it’s inconvenient for us,” Barbara added.

Ian wouldn’t have called their current predicament “inconvenient” as much as “inopportune” - he’d vastly prefer being in this position atop a mattress. However, in his interest to come across as a gentleman, he nodded. “Yes.” He smiled anxiously, trying not to reveal how breathless he felt.

After another minute of slightly awkward silence in which Ian valiantly tried and failed to not stare at Barbara’s lips, the pressure in the TARDIS lessened enough to where Barbara could step away from Ian.

“Sorry about that.”

“Quite alright - it wasn’t your fault.” Ian felt conflicted as to whether that had been something that he would’ve wished to continue. Nonetheless, he reminded himself that he simply could not linger on those thoughts. Almost as an afterthought, he added: “you know, we should probably go ask the Doctor about that.”

He turned his head to the left, where Barbara was now leaning against the wall. She was closer to him than he had realized, and fixing him under her gaze. This wasn’t a stern gaze though, nor a playful gaze, ir a questioning gaze. This was….

Her breathing was uneven and erratic, her legs were hardly steady, her pupils were dilated, no, not dilated, more like blown wide with-

… arousal.

No. She couldn’t have possibly been as affected as he was. He was probably, in his state of bewilderment, mistaking her disposition for arousal, when she was actually afraid, or something of the sort. In fact…

Taking a glance at his shoes, he then met her eyes again, just to be sure.

No, that was definitely arousal. He had witnessed it a select few times, and witnessing it on Barbara was more arousing to him than he ever could’ve imagined.

It was dangerous to love someone who could die on the next adventure.

“Yes, we should.”

Ian was startled out of his thoughts. “We should what?”

Barbara shuffled her feet. “Um, you mentioned asking the Doctor about… what caused… the turbulence.” Her voice lowered into a breathy whisper as she spoke, and Ian knew he’d never hear the word “turbulence” the same way again. He slowly slid his left foot forward, and then brought his right foot forward to meet it. They were mere centimeters apart now. Ian felt his stomach fill with butterflies. He moved his hand up the length of her arm to rest on her neck. He heard a catch in her breath and intently watched Barbara’s eyeshadow dusted lids close over the chocolate brown eyes that had been boring into his own. Ian nearly sighed with relief.

“Seems we have it fixed now!” came Vicki’s shout from the control room, and Ian swiftly dropped his hand, moving away from Barbara. Still dazed, she blinked slowly, then ran her hands down her dress, smoothing away the wrinkles.

“Well, I was uh-” Ian coughed, “reading, so-”

“Yes, I believe I’ll go have a lie down. Ian.” Barbara nodded at him, perfunctory, not meeting his eyes. She glided past him, the slight breeze caused by her movement giving Ian chills. 

“Yes, alright,” Ian mumbled, but Barbara was already gone. He sighed.

They were so close to resolving this unsolved thing between them, to getting somewhere. Next time, he vowed, next time he wouldn’t be such a damn coward, Vicki and the Doctor be damned.

But would there be a next time?

Sometimes Ian wondered if, despite everything, the time he needed to speak those words was truly finite.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. The Beatles are my favorite band - if you're here, you probably remember them being referenced on the show and Ian dancing to one of their songs, so I didn't think the reference in fic was too far fetched. Also, I know this ended a little pessimistically, but DW comics I've read have Ian and Barbara married and both uni professors. I choose to believe that, as the show itself didn't really give them as a couple a super concrete ending.
> 
> Like or review if you enjoyed! xoxo


End file.
